


In Vein

by showmeurteef



Series: VCU (Vampire Changkyun Universe) [1]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Daddy Kink, Historical, Minor Character Death, Other, blood drinking is sexual kinda, changki said eat the rich, cis vampires??? Not On My Watch, queerphobia ment, vampires!changki, weight loss/gain from drinking blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22072801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/showmeurteef/pseuds/showmeurteef
Summary: Something zings between his blood-filled lips and Kihyun’s frigid, stiff throat. A sprinkling of acid rain. A crackling flame. He wants to catch the feeling between his teeth, to chew on it.a couple snippets from the century or so changki spent together before things soured(prequel to transfusion but can be read as stand alone)extended/explained warnings within
Relationships: Im Changkyun | I.M/Yoo Kihyun
Series: VCU (Vampire Changkyun Universe) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590823
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	In Vein

**Author's Note:**

> warnings (contains spoilers):  
> \- changki drink from n kill somebody but u don't see much of the actual violence  
> \- implied they decide to kill bad ppl but warning that they have vampsex right after too so, tis dark
> 
> (also sorry the snippets r a bit disjointed cuz fic plans changed but i figured they'd be worth sharing ?)

_“Changkyunnie? ”_

Kihyun’s tone is the one he uses when he wants something, when he’s about to tell Changkyun what to do. Obnoxiously sing-songy. Ringing straight through the bedroom door.

Changkyun glowers at himself in the full-length mirror. He fastens his necklace a touch too forcefully for the inconceivable amount of money Kihyun spent on it, just for the sake of being annoyed. 

_“What?”_

He inspects his ensemble, stretching and twirling, satisfied. Rubies dangle above a lacy linen camisole, catch the candlelight, glitter against violet veins. He looks _just_ as pretty as he thought he would, swathed in lace and ribbons and ruffles. 

He likes the way the bloomers fan out over his stocking-clad thighs. Likes the sliver of skin between the bloomers’ high waistband and the camisole. Likes the tiny bow perched in the center of his chest. If only that asshole shopkeeper could see him now; _this_ would shut him up even faster than Kihyun’s pocketbook. 

“It’s time to feed. Come out here.”

Changkyun groans.

“ _Now._ ”

Changkyun groans even louder, but manages to tear himself away from his reflection, curl pointed fingernails around twin door knobs, and throw the bedroom doors open to the rest of the hotel suite. He spots Kihyun neatly tucked against a sofa by an opened window. One taloned hand gently swirls a glass of blood, the other is curved over his knee. His deep red baji crinkle and swish as he uncrosses his legs swiftly, mechanically. Curtains billow behind him. Candles flicker against an empty glass sat on the table. Dimly lit, he looks particularly pale and jagged; shards of glass wrapped in tulle. 

Kihyun’s lips part. His brows furrow.

“Is _that_ what you made me buy from that ladies’ lingerie shop?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Changkyun scowls and crosses his arms, defending the delicate lace from Kihyun’s sharp gaze. “ _I_ think I look _pretty."_

Kihyun clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I never said that I thought you _didn’t_ look pretty.”

Changkyun roots himself in the doorway and turns his nose up, just for the sake of being stubborn.

“I’m surprised two _gentlemen_ got away with buying something so frilly in _this_ town, is all,” Kihyun insists. 

Changkyun doesn’t budge. Kihyun sighs. 

“You’re the prettiest, loveliest, most beautiful fledgling I’ve _ever_ seen in all my centuries. I _promise_. Now, get over here and feed, you stubborn thing.”

A smile sneaks out from Changkyun’s frown, leaving him no choice but to saunter towards Kihyun’s open arms. He sinks into his lap, settling against his red silk baji and bare, bony chest. Kihyun presses the wine glass to Changkyun’s lips. Blood sloshes dangerously close to its rim as Changkyun speaks again.

“For the record, I didn’t _make_ you do anything. You _chose_ to buy ladies’ undergarments.”

“ _Mhm_ , just like I _chose_ to buy that necklace after you whined about it for nights on end,” Kihyun murmurs, and drags Changkyun’s bottom lip downward with the rim of the glass. “I think you’re spoiled.”

“I think you _like_ spoiling me.”

Changkyun accepts the offered blood, tilting his head back to give Kihyun a better view of his adam’s apple bobbing up his throat, down towards the rubies.

“ _Rotten_ ,” Kihyun sighs, but Changkyun catches his smile; all needlepoint teeth and rosy lips, too bright for how exasperated he’s pretending to be. “Don’t drink too fast this time; I don’t want to have to deal with blood stains, _or_ with your complaints about a stomach ache.”

Changkyun _hmphs_ , but tries to sip lightly. _Tries_. Feeding is just so new, so _good_ — _nothing_ like eating regular food. Blood doesn’t simply coat his mouth, slide down his throat, and trickle into his stomach. It fills and soaks, weaves life into the world, into _him_.

His insides fizzle and spark. Plush, pulsing skin muffles the harsh edges of his bones. Heat races from his head to his toes, and settles in the pit of his belly. His mind easily sorts the whispers next door from the twinkling starlight, the breeze in his hair from the iron coating his tongue. He remembers how good it is to have blood in his veins, how good it is to be _alive._

Kihyun’s fingernails clink against the emptied glass as he lowers it to the table. Changkyun hums and throws his arms around Kihyun’s shoulders. He peppers his neck with kisses, warm and sticky and metallic. Something _zings_ between his blood-filled lips and Kihyun’s frigid, stiff throat. A sprinkling of acid rain. A crackling flame. He wants to catch the feeling between his teeth, to chew on it.

“Alright, _alright._ Don’t think you can suck _my_ blood,” Kihyun grumbles. Changkyun leans back, arms still looped around Kihyun’s neck, and wiggles eagerly. His head swims with thoughts of teeth piercing flesh, veins bursting with blood, a heartbeat against his tongue.

“ _When?_ When will I get to— to _actually_ drink from someone?” He licks his lips. Every ounce of his focus goes towards reading Kihyun’s expression. He tries to anticipate his answer from the glint in his eyes, the pores dusting his nose, the hairs brushing his ear. He wants to know— _needs_ to know. Needs to know what it feels like to _really_ drink blood.

“Open up.” Kihyun pats Changkyun’s cheek, and hooks a pointed fingernail in the corner of his mouth. “Let me see how your fangs are coming in, hm?”

Changkyun bares his teeth, lowers his jaw, let’s Kihyun turn his head this way and that. Kihyun tugs at his lips and clacks his teeth with his nails. He hums when Changkyun leans into his rough touch. 

“Does it hurt?”

Changkyun nods. Since the Change began, his mouth has ached _constantly_ , like his teeth are swaddled in bruises. Pulsing and tearing. When he gets hungry, he can _feel_ the fangs growing; they crowd against his other teeth, they shred through pink gums. And it _hurts_. Hurts until his veins are filled with enough blood to guide his brain elsewhere, through one sensation or thought or sentence at a time.

Fingers press against the ridges of his sensitive gums, trailing reddish spit and the taste of blood throughout his mouth. They’re ice cold, rigid. They linger on his tongue. They push hard against his sore molars. _Harder_ when a whine pours from Changkyun’s throat.

Changkyun isn’t convinced it’s all part of the inspection. Isn’t prepared to handle the luscious excess of warmth pooling inside his belly. Too much sensation, not enough blood. He frowns and squirms, impatience bubbling to the surface.

“Will my teeth look like yours?” he splutters around Kihyun’s fingers, and instantly loses himself in Kihyun’s answering grin. The pristine rows of fangs remind him of the pearls his mother wears, of the daggers in Kihyun’s trunk. 

Changkyun touches one long white fang to his fingertip and pricks himself. Pain bursts from his fingertip to his brain like an ember from a fireplace, quick and crackling. He shivers. The tiny, bloodless wound closes in the blink of an eye. He splays the healed finger out in the candlelight, marveling at the completely unblemished skin. 

Kihyun seems to watch him through a magnifying glass, but before Changkyun can ask what he sees, his attention returns to Changkyun’s mouth. He splits his fingers over Changkyun’s wiggling tongue, pricks its soft sides with his sharp nails. Changkyun’s breath falters. 

He flicks his tongue over the thin skin between Kihyun’s fingers. Teasing. Kihyun gives him a thoughtful hum and a wry smile in return.

“Everyone’s fangs are different.” He taps Changkyun’s canines lightly. “These are the only teeth that seem to be getting any sharper.”

“Just like some boring penny dreadful vampire?” Changkyun scoffs, _thoroughly_ disappointed that he won’t look anywhere near as fierce and unnerving as Kihyun with his mouthful of lustrous fangs. 

“But think of how many unsuspecting maidens you’ll be able to seduce on dark and stormy nights.” Kihyun drags his fingers out from Changkyun’s mouth, intent on the glistening pink spittle that stretches out from Changkyun’s tongue like spider thread.

His movements get a tad slower, a tad quieter. Changkyun considers jerking his head backward to snap the thread. 

He nestles against his angular form with a dejected sigh befitting a penny dreadful love interest instead, snapping the pinkish spittle anyhow and forcing Kihyun’s gaze back onto him.

“I don’t _want_ to seduce any maidens...” Changkyun’s eyes slide up from Kihyun’s bony chest to his face. More threads of violet and red appear beneath his skin by the minute, tangling with each other and knotting against cheekbones. Candlelight clings to his dark pupils. Eyelashes stretch towards the ceiling. Changkyun imagines he’ll probably look like him someday. More cracked porcelain than human. More frozen than alive.

“Good.” Kihyun’s lips seem to move independently from the rest of his face; a singing automaton. His clockwork hands grip lace and linen, pull Changkyun further into his arms. “You’re _mine_.”

“Yours.” Changkyun nuzzles against him, presses his ear to his breastbone, listens for the soft ticking.

But the single glass’s worth of blood is dissipating far, _far_ too quickly. The world is getting heavier and colder and _louder._ Horse hooves outside pummel his eardrums. Sprouting fangs shred through his gums millimeter by millimeter.

He pulls his legs up and around Kihyun’s waist and clutches at Kihyun’s broken glass shoulders. 

“Forever.”

* * *

Changkyun brushes his hand against Kihyun’s own, and it responds soundlessly, instantly. Stone splitting to make room for growing vines; their fingers interlace. 

“Remember when this street was pitch black? But we thought those gas lamps were so _bright_ ,” Changkyun laughs under his breath. 

Kihyun doesn’t reply. Pace steady, eyes narrowed. Street light and shadows present no resistance at all as he slices through the empty, narrow street, completely focused on the prey ahead.

They’ve been watching this man for weeks; just one on the list of many whose fists and pockets are too heavy. Changkyun likes to call it pruning.

The alcohol coursing through the man’s veins slows him down. He stumbles over his own feet and curses at the closed storefronts, and Kihyun is _hungry._ Changkyun just wants it to be over with. 

He isn’t worried —Kihyun has snipped off much worse, much quicker from the earth— he just can’t stand when Kihyun gets like _this_ : silent and firm in a world that’s been filed down to the scent of blood. His frigid presence reminds Changkyun just how many centuries stand behind, between, ahead of them. He squeezes their laced fingers.

“Now, _this_ is bright, isn’t it? I read that they use something called nitrogen in lightbulbs, these days. It makes the tungsten filament bulbs...” Changkyun swallows his bubbling excitement. Light and shadow continue to slip over Kihyun’s motionless face, faster and faster. Changkyun squeezes their fingers again. “Makes them last longer.”

Changkyun forces his eyes forward, but he can’t help but swish their interlocked hands back and forth with a giddiness he doesn’t feel, trying to remember how long it's been since Kihyun felt full enough to smile, to listen, even just to argue.

His coattails sweep the backs of his knees as their pace quickens. He lets his footsteps clack against the pavement, just to hear _something_ over the biting, howling wind. 

He blinks, and Kihyun is on the man, leaving Changkyun’s hand to grasp at the crisp air. The man makes a guttural, startled noise as Kihyun swings him into an alley, a puddle of water and oil and who-knows-what splashing around their feet. A wet _snap_ resounds when Kihyun slams him against a brick wall. Changkyun looks down at his feet.

New shoes. Almond shaped. Less pretty than the strappy heels that twirled around him on the dance floor all night, but shiny enough to reflect the streetlight, just like the wet pavement. 

A shriek. A groan.

One set of shoelaces is coming undone, dangling dangerously close to the glittering puddle. Changkyun rolls his ankle and watches the very tips of the laces skim the surface of the filthy liquid. 

Blood splatters across the pavement. It reflects the streetlight, too. 

Changkyun looks up.

“Wasn’t careful— heart beating too fast. Didn’t realize I was so...” Kihyun pants, voice drowning in warmth as he gestures towards the uncharacteristically messy scene by way of explanation. Red beads cling to the fur collar of Kihyun’s coat, soak into his white shirtfront, and stain his lips. The man’s hands raise towards his spurting throat in slow motion. He looks indignant, _insulted_ by his certain death.

Kihyun barks out a laugh and tears the man’s hands away from his throat with patronizingly little force. The man doesn’t make a sound as Kihyun slots his mouth over the bursting artery. Kihyun goes rigid as he drinks loudly, deeply. Changkyun stuffs his hands in his pockets.

It’s over in a matter of moments. The man’s body droops to the ground, a pile of limp bones and expensive clothing where life used to stand. Kihyun turns to Changkyun with his head and arms tilted back, beaming at the sky. Toxic clouds and buzzing light meet scarlet and pearls and _laughter_. Changkyun presses the moment between his ribcage and his heart, with the hope that it won’t fade and crackle too much over time.

“You didn’t realize you were so what? Strong?”

“So _hungry_.” Kihyun’s grin tilts towards Changkyun, _half_ as razor-sharp as the look in his eyes. Changkyun’s head instantly goes fizzy. He knows he’s still pink and smooth from his last kill, still pulsing with life. And Kihyun is _hungry_. 

Changkyun smiles and cocks his head. Bares his throat. 

Kihyun slinks towards him, slowly walking him backwards into the alley wall without a single touch. His bones sink beneath soft skin. A blush fans over his cheeks. He lets the last bits of the man’s blood slip through his fangs, down his chin, onto his shirtfront. The crown of Changkyun’s head knocks against brick.

Kihyun’s presence crowds him against the wall. He gently runs his fingers over Changkyun’s lapels and straightens his bowtie. His gaze flits over Changkyun’s wind-ruffled hair, his curled eyelashes, his two fangs catching his bottom lip. He backs Changkyun further against the wall, but _doesn’t touch_. 

Changkyun huffs and yanks him forward by the collar to connect their lips. For an instant, it’s light and wet and metallic, until Kihyun snarls and shoves Changkyun flat against the brick, angling him upwards, so that only the almond tips of his shoes touch the ground. Changkyun doesn’t fight or flail, just dangles above Kihyun’s mouth. 

The kiss is all teeth, endless needles pricking and puncturing. Kihyun’s mouth is thick with iron, his tongue warm and wet. The remainders of the man’s blood ooze into Changkyun, make his head tingle. His moan crashes into the back of Kihyun’s throat. 

Kihyun pulls back, and Changkyun’s shoes clatter back onto the filthy pavement. Kihyun presses a pointed fingernail to Changkyun’s lips before he can protest. 

“ _Shush_. Do you want someone to catch us?”

“It’s not like I moan loud enough to wake the dead,” Changkyun grumbles beneath the fingertip and makes a grab for Kihyun’s hips, but he just darts farther away. His eyebrows raise. Changkyun groans. Loudly. 

“I’m only hungry for good, _quiet_ boys now,” Kihyun tsks, lifting his finger until it’s just _barely_ grazing Changkyun’s lips.

“I _am_ good.” Changkyun presses a light kiss to Kihyun’s finger. “And I _will_ be quiet.”

“Prove it.” Finally, he steps forward and slips his hands beneath Changkyun’s coat to unbutton his suspenders. He grips his sides tightly, whispers in his ear, “Prove it to Daddy.”

Changkyun melts into the brick. Kihyun nips at his earlobe.

It takes every last blood cell to _whisper_ his reply, “Yes, Daddy.”

Kihyun sighs contentedly against his jaw, and litters the squishy skin with nipping kisses. Changkyun reaches for his hips again, but Kihyun’s hands curl around his wrists like whips, pinning them to the wall above his head.

“ _Stay._ ”

“Yes, Daddy,” Changkyun mumbles, voice already spilling coarse misery. He presses his fists against the cold, rough bricks. Gasps and shudders as a chill runs through him. And Kihyun can’t help but respond to the thought that Changkyun’s veins still throb with enough blood to heat him from within; his moan slides down Changkyun’s neck, his bared fangs hover just above an artery. Changkyun shivers with something other than cold.

Kihyun keeps his mouth above his neck, teasing and cruel, as he slips icy hands beneath Changkyun’s shirt. The buttons strain as he swirls sharp nails around his nipples. Pinches. Changkyun whimpers, fists scraping and back arching against brick.

“My poor, sensitive baby.” Kihyun’s grin pricks his throat. Sparklers light inside Changkyun’s skull.

“Bite me.” He rolls his hips against Kihyun’s. Coos with lemon and honey, “ _Daddy._ ”

So Kihyun does. He sinks his fangs into Changkyun’s throat with a dry splintering noise, sucks harshly at his empty veins. And Changkyun is _instantly_ oversensitive. He feels _everything_ , from the tiny, sliding shifts of each fang inside his skin to the pulsing, wet pressure of Kihyun’s tongue against his throat. His veins _cling_ to his last droplets of life, and Changkyun’s brain _screams_ at him to protect his shriveled bloodstream. 

But Kihyun feeding from his empty veins, from him tingles and throbs. It sends shockwaves of panicked fire straight through to his heart. It feels dangerous, _good_ . He melts and jerks with every empty drink, overcome by the heady sense of becoming _prey._

Changkyun wants to give everything to Kihyun, wants Kihyun to take everything from him. Kihyun’s fangs pierce through layers and layers of skin and pop bloodless veins. Changkyun’s eyes fluttering shut as he imagines Kihyun’s jaw getting wider, wider. As he imagines Kihyun sucking him down to the bone. He starts to wilt against the wall, but Kihyun catches him. 

“It’s okay, Daddy’s got you.” He pecks Changkyun’s lips, tasting faintly of iron and dust. “I’ve got you.”

Changkyun jumps and trembles through the heated waves of instinctual terror. Of aching want. He wants Kihyun to keep drinking, he wants Kihyun to swallow him whole. But he hurts— he’s _spent_.

A fog of too, _too_ much sensation creeps in from the rest of the world, thickens before Changkyun’s eyes. Quickly, he blinks through it, and finds Kihyun gazing at the wet, shining ground. 

Kihyun’s head pivots upward. His eyes lock onto the globes of electric light. His voice filters through his teeth, “Remember when this street was pitch black?” Bitter. Homesick. The buzz of the streetlights gets louder, gets _angry_. Kihyun’s lip curls. “Now, it's so _bright_.”

Kihyun’s skin and bones reflect the artificial light like broken glass. His grip on Changkyun would bruise, if it could.

Hunger latches onto Changkyun’s insides. 

**Author's Note:**

> responses of any kind r greatly appreciated uwu <33  
> u can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/showmeurteef) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/showmeurteef)


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